


Mission:Miraculous

by Hopeless_Hogwartian394



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dreamed up by the Hell Bunny Squad, F/M, Nondescript missions, also inspired by a post on tumblr, hopefully plot, spy AU, that was inspired by the Hell Bunny chats, there is swearing in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7366522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeless_Hogwartian394/pseuds/Hopeless_Hogwartian394
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The AU where they are both spies. In which there are still identity shenanigans, Hawkmoth and an uncooperative Plagg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduciiiiiing...LB777

**Author's Note:**

> This was dreamed up in one of [megatraven's](http://http://megatraven.tumblr.com) movie streams. Also in [this](http://hopelesshogwartian.tumblr.com/post/146651540079/miraculous-ladybug-au-spies-masterpost) tumblr post.

Marinette hummed softly as she carefully hefted trays of baked goods from the bakery kitchen into the glass cases in the front counter of her parent’s bakery. The early morning setup was her favourite part of the day, with the sounds of her parents working in the bakery and the faint noises of the city beginning to wake up the only accompaniment to her measured actions.

It was nice, this sense of normalcy and calm. Marinette savoured the times when she could act like she was nothing more than the respectable daughter of two bakers.

She managed to stay and help her parents with the early morning rush of Parisians jostling to get their daily bread and the occasional pastry, and it passed mostly without incident. She only dropped three loaves and a handful of change, and only one of the loaves was actually an accident.

But, like all unexceptional things, it soon ended, evaporating with the strident beeping emanating from her back pocket. Luckily the rush was almost over, and her parents could easily manage without her. It was the work of a moment to trade out with her mother the control of the cash register, and head up to her room to get changed into something more appropriate for her actual job. A dark red shirt over a sports bra, black pants, worn boots, and weapons in unexpected places served to satisfy the dress code of ‘practical, yet professional’ and her own sense of fashion. The red shirt wasn’t strictly regulation, but she was high up enough in the organisation that she could get away with indulging herself a little. After checking that she has everything she would need and a few things that she probably doesn’t, Marinette scoops up her jacket and belt, and slinks out the trapdoor onto the rooftops of Paris.

The rooftops, while not the safest place in the world, are the most covert way of getting around the city. While most spies try to avoid extra risk, Marinette loves the exhilarating feeling she gets from making her way places above street level. Civilians so rarely look up, and it’s easier to lose any tails she may have. There are fewer cameras, too, and less risk of collateral damage. She doesn’t always take the rooftops to work, predictability is bad in her line of work, but it is her favourite.

TKE is beeping ever more insistently, and Marinette takes a moment in the shadow of a chimney to switch over to vibrate, and to check the screen to see which entrance she is being directed to today. It’s one she hasn’t used yet, and three streets over and a little ways north of her current location. The route she took was an easy one, with short jumps and uncluttered rooftops leading her to drop into a narrow alley, scanning for any sign that something was off.

The alley was dim and cluttered with discarded boxes and pallets, and plenty of places for someone to hide. Marinette slipped through the mess, wrinkling her nose at the slightly pungent smell emanating from what was clearly a restaurant of some kind and dubious quality. The alley ended in a stark brick wall almost as tall as the buildings either side.

Marinette reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a soft cloth mask, that she slipped over her eyes and tied securely at the back of her head. Thusly attired, she scanned her surroundings. It was empty of anyone, the roofs empty of any observers and cameras, and no windows or niches that could conceal a person. Secure in the knowledge that she was alone, LB777 moved forward and pressed her left hand to a select brick, pressing her right thumb against TKE’s dim screen. To her left, the wall slide smoothly back to reveal a small gap big enough for her to slip through. She ducked into the newly revealed lift, and felt herself slowly descend into the depths of the earth, on her way to get to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, LB777 and the agency that has yet to be named. Props to the Hell Bunny squad for all their amaze ideas, support/enablement and help (except meg b/c she is angsting rn).


	2. Introduciiiiiing...CN413

As the lift descended, LB777 took the opportunity to see why she had been called in. TKE's readout displayed a summons to the meeting rooms in this sector from her direct superior, WF101.

The lift slowed smoothly to a stop mere moments later. Pressing TKE to the sleek electronic reader located to the left of the sliding doors, she exited the lift into an empty corridor, moving silently towards the meeting rooms nearby

TKE pulsed gently in her hand as she made her way through almost empty corridors, nodding to the occasional spy when she passed them. She didn't meet anyone who she knew by sight, and no one dared catch her eye.

The meeting rooms in the sector of the organisation she was assigned to were mostly unused at this time of day, all but three left vacant. LB777 consulted TKE to confirm which room she had been summoned to.

She rapped briskly on the door of the second room to the right.

"Enter," a female voice called. LB777 swung the door open and strode inside. Inside, two people were seated at the table in the centre of the room, a man and a woman. She knew the woman, WF101. The man, however, was unfamiliar to her.

He had messy blond hair, green eyes, and was dressed entirely in tight black clothing, like the spies in movies. Even his mask was pitch black.

"Good morning, LB777," WF101 greeted her warmly as she pulled out the chair next to the blond man and sat down in it. He grinned broadly at her as she settled herself into a comfortable position, but received only a terse nod in return.

"Good morning WF101. Why have you called me in today?"

"Ah yes, well, you see, the higher ups have decided that you've been operating alone for too long and, well, I know you're not going to like it, but..."

"What?! No. I don't want a partner and I don't need one, either." LB777 turned to the man next to her. "No offence, but I don't do partners. I work best alone."

"I'm sorry, LB777, but you have been working solo for far too long. I agree with my superiors, you need a permanent partner, someone who can watch your back and provide support.

I'd like to introduce you to a recent transfer from another sector, CN413. I believe you have heard of each other. LB777, CN413 is your new partner. I think you two will work well together." WF101 grinned, "I'll be right back. Play nice you two." With that, she swiftly exited the room.

LB777 sat in shock for a second, processing this. Then she glared at CN413. He grinned right back, clearly not scared of her.

She was pissed now. She didn't need a partner, especially not this partner. CN413 was the closest thing she had to a mortal enemy within the organisation. He was a decent enough spy from what she could gather, but he had a habit of stealing her missions out from under her, or worse, fucking up her mission and forcing her to either bail on the mission or waste time fixing his screw ups. It was frustrating, to say the least.

“Pleasure to finally meet you in person, LB777. I’m-”

She cut him off before he could go any further. “I know who you are, CN413. Like I said, I don’t need a partner. Especially not you."

“Look, I don’t know what you have against having a partner, but surely it can't be as bad as you think. I'm a pretty good spy, all things considered.” She glared at him. "What did I ever do to you?" She kept glaring. He grinned right back. There was a tentative knock from the direction of the door.

"I'm back. I hope you two haven’t murdered each other. I had to go fetch the files. We’re sending you on a mission, with simple observation and backup for an undercover mission already underway. The previous backup needed to be withdrawn, so we’re sending you in, in their place.” She handed LB777 the files she held tucked under her arm. “Here is a summary of the operation thus far. Read it, then ready yourself to leave. That means you need to visit QB000, LB777”

LB777 sighed and rolled her eyes. WF101’s admonitions were unwarranted. She knew the protocols and she would follow them when necessary. She had only ignored them _once_ , maybe twice. A few times. Okay, perhaps she had a problem. Standing up, she grabbed CN413’s bicep and dragged him out of the room to get away from WF101 and her smug smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, the duo begin their mission, and butt heads several times. Nicknames abound, and LB777 is 1000% done


	3. Adrien is such a fucking cutie, and a dork. Bless him.

LB777 was still fuming hours later, perched unobtrusively atop a roof. She could hear CN413’s light breathing through the earpiece in her left ear, a constant reminder of the unwanted partner she was now saddled with. The mission that they were on was a simple one, but so much could still go wrong. It only took a moment of inattentiveness for something to go wrong. Silence on the comms barring essential traffic was the unspoken rule.

Apparently, no-one had thought to inform CN413 of this. While for the most part he tended towards silence, occasionally he would start murmuring irrelevant nonsense into her ear. He was currently occupied with coming up with a nickname for her. It was frustrating, to say the least."I got it," came the excited whisper in her ear. LB777 did not jump at the unexpected noise, since she was a professional, unlike _some_ people.She rolled her eyes and resigned herself to the inevitable. Sure enough, CN413 kept talking without waiting to be acknowledged. “Ladybug. Your nickname can be Ladybug.” He sounded so pleased with himself. LB777 frowned.“No. I don’t need a nickname, it is unprofessional and unnecessary and how on earth did you come up with Ladybug, anyway? It’s not even French.” She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of the name.

 

“Because you’re LB, as in ladybug, and you wear red and black, like a ladybug. So, Ladybug.”

She could see the self-satisfied grin on his face from three rooftops over. He wasn’t exactly subtle. Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention back to the street below. She could see that the undercover agents she had been assigned to watch had finally engaged their targets in seemingly innocuous conversation. LB777 went as still as she was able. This was the riskiest part of the mission, and she couldn’t risk the slightest lapse in concentration.

 

* * *

For once, things went off without a hitch, despite CN413 being involved. It was perhaps a little harsh to blame him for _everything_ that went wrong, but in her defence, it wasn’t entirely unwarranted. He did have a tendency to cock up missions that he was implicated in.

LB777 sighed. Since it didn’t look like she was going to get out of having a partner, she might as well try and get along with the one she had. It could wait though. She needed to go home, to sleep and to make sure that she didn’t let her cover as Marinette slip or attract suspicion.

 

* * *

It was morning, and Marinette was humming gently to herself as she went through the motions of getting the bakery ready to open. It was a routine that she was well accustomed to, and one she could perform with all the ease of familiarity. While not necessarily what one would call a morning person, she did love the bakery before opening, when all was calm and ordered.

 

As the clock ticked closer to seven o’clock, she could feel a slight sense of expectation building in her chest, in anticipation of the morning rush of Parisians eager for bread. When all was ready and in order, and the clock was about to tick over to seven, she moved out from behind the counter to open up the shop for the few early morning customers already waiting outside.  

 

Two hours later, the morning rush was beginning to slow, and Marinette was preparing to clock out and head to work. The door jingled cheerily, signalling the entrance of a new customer, and she glanced up to see who had entered.

 

The young man who had just entered the shop had a disgruntled frown on his face, and looked to be an average office worker from his clothing, and was unfairly tall and handsome. Marinette was not a shallow person, but _damn_  this man was good looking. He seemed a little _too_ attractive though, there was something not quite  _right_ about it. It rubbed her the wrong way just looking at him. Still, she would have to serve him, if only to keep up the pretence that she was simply a normal girl working here as a cashier.

 

“Good morning, how can I help you today?” she asked brightly. His frown deepened slightly at her lively tone, before smoothing out into a pleasant smile and _oh damn he was even hotter when he smiled._  


He tilted his head consideringly, and then apparently came to a decision. “Two croissants and a baguette, please.”

 

“That’ll be 2.80 €,” she stated. His smile widened as she fished out his order into two paper bags, and then more as she exchanged them for his money. As she made change for the five euro note he had handed her, he sniffed delightedly at the smell from the bags. He grinned broadly at her as she handed him his change and thanked her, before tuning away and practically skipping out the door before she could wish him a nice day. It was _cute._  Cuter than any grown man had any right to be. Marinette couldn’t help the slight blush that turned her cheeks pink as she watched him leave.  _Oh shit_. 

 

She might just have the beginnings of a crush. And she didn’t even know his name. _Fuck._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #LetAdrienEat2k16
> 
> Next chapter: More shenanigans involving these crazy kids, and Plagg. What could possibly go wrong?


	4. Marinette no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette pls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes hi hello I'm alive and still a piece of shit I'm so sorry for neglecting my fics here have a chapter

The man came in every morning after that. He continued to be polite and courteous while working his way through their entire pastry selection with the excitedly delighted demeanour of a small puppy. Marinette could barely manage to make any sort of small talk with him, steadfastly confining herself to the bare minimum of interaction so she wouldn’t stutter conspicuously. It’s been a while since she last had a crush on anyone, but she’ll be damned if she’ll let it get to her. 

She makes a concerted effort to be the one manning the register each morning, which for the most part is not difficult. Her parents appreciate being able to spend more time in the kitchen, and any other employees working that day don’t usually clock in until 9am at the earliest, and so she falls into a routine. He comes in everyday around the same time, tries to engage her in small talk, buys his food and leaves her an embarrassed wreck. It’s dangerous, she knows, to fall into a routine of any kind, but she can’t help enjoying it too much to stop. She is gleaning little details about him all the time, and he is kind and sweet, and really very cute.

His name Is Adrien. He gives it to her one day with a sunny smile that causes her mind to blank for a second before she recovers somewhat and stutters out her own name in return. The delighted expression he makes at this minor concession makes her heart stutter. She also leans that he likes cats and science, and he prefers their croissants to almost anything else on offer, with the possible exception of their macarons.

* * *

It had been three weeks since she had been partnered with CN413, and they had been assigned on a few easy missions in that time, all things that she could do by herself, nothing that required them to know who the other was, something that required a level of trust that they simply did not have yet. All of them were a waste of her skills, and probably CN413’s. But anything more difficult could fall apart if they both refused to work with each other, and so she understood the need.

It was frustrating though, to constantly be forced to spend long periods of time doing nothing with only CN413 for company. She knew him a little better now. The man was an incorrigible flirt with an outrageous love of awful and cringeworthy puns, most of them cat-related, for some mysterious reason. 

But she knew that the higher-ups couldn’t keep this up forever. Eventually, her skills would be needed, and she hoped that they would be needed soon.

* * *

She was right. However, right at this moment, she wished she wasn’t.

She can hear him giggling. She is dangling off the side of a building with only CN413 to hold her up, and he is giggling. They are supposed to be professionals, for fucks sake. And of course she can’t respond, since she needs both hands and all the concentration she can muster to get into this unnecessarily secure office building through the only window, which has a ridiculously complicated lock on it. 

There is nothing in this particular office that was of interest to them or their assignment, but it’s the easiest way into the building itself. With a satisfying whir, the lock gives and LB777 slides the window gently open and scans the room as scrupulously as she can. Noticing nothing that could present a threat to their assignment or give warning of their presence, she slips inside and unclips the rope that had been holding her, giving it a sharp tug and signalling the all clear.

It’s a short wait for CN413 as he makes his own way down the side of the building, and LB777 spends it going over their plan and schematics in her head. There is a safe they need to access in the basement of this building, and it’s currently 8 floors below them. She knows the best route to take, thanks to some schematics that another agent had pilfered for them, and she knows roughly what stands in her way. Between her and CN413, she figures this shouldn’t be too hard.

She hears the soft thud of CN413’s feet hitting the floor behind her, but doesn't bother to turn around. He knows the plan as well as she does.

"Let's go," she says softly, motioning imperiously with her left hand as she begins to move forward. The silence presses around them as the slink through the hallways of the building. There are no obstacles until they reach the first basement level, which is locked with a scanner lock, one that takes no more than a little fiddling with TK-E to pop open. Some where behind the near maze of underground floors is a safe that contains their mission target. LB777 adjusts her mask and pushes forward into the dim lighting. 

* * *

“Another mission success, LB. Congratulations. You too, CN413, despite certain…mishaps.” LB glances at her partner, sliding a glare sidelong in his direction. Mishaps was certainly an understatement. It’s a wonder they managed to salvage the mission as well as they had, in all honesty. 

“The two of you have been working fairly well together, but we have been noticing that there is a certain lack of partnership between the pair of you. You will need to work on that before we send you back out into the field. That is all.”

She leaves them alone in the room, probably in the hopes that some kind of partnership will spontaneusly appear. The expectation that everyone seems to have for her, that she’ll suddenly be okay with accepting a partner out of nowhere, is incredibly frustrating.

She gets up. CN413 is still sitting slightly slumped in his chair, eyes watching her from behind the dark mask. “I’m out, I have things I need to do.” He bounces up like an excitable puppy and makes to come after her. “Alone.” He sags slightly, but lets her leave without him.

* * *

The corridors are empty for the most part, and the occasional run in with people on her way to return her gear settles her frustrated nerves. By the time she reaches the nearest exit she feels better about her determination to resist this forced partnership. She can work well enough with him, but he won’t be the partner she knows she doesn't need.


End file.
